Best Quietus Poems | Poetry
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The Best Quietus Poems
Before my flowing, poetic pen is hushed in Quietus,
And I have reached my journey's end with folded hands;
Departed into my dreamless sleep beneath violets,
Let me write one everlasting, eternal, immortal verse;
Of the ravaged garden of my life.
I want to hear a bird song when I quietly glide away,
With a sigh, I will lay my pale form down peacefully;
I have willed my Keepsakes and my musing poems,
The Angel of death, will take my hand into another realm;
And the drums of time will cease.
Oh, it has been a life full of happiness entwined with sad,
I have travelled many different roads to get to Tranquillity;
The chapters of my life are full of the dead and undead,
Memories of childhood, family, friends and pets I loved;
The scars of life stab my soul.
I do not fear death and I am ready to go through the gate,
But I will miss nature, the woods and the waters moving;
And as I walk the silent passage alone to my eternal night,
Think of me as being set free and soaring high up above;
I lived a life weather-stained with tears.
Leaving life is something we all must do; it is written,
I was held by a thread in this earthly realm until that last gasp;
Now, all I know is the peacefulness of a leafy tree above,
Drifting blue clouds and rain falling gently on my resting place;
I was a shadow on the wall of time.
Do not weep over my eternal grave heartbroken my dears,
I have followed the beautiful Angels footsteps to heaven;
My poetry is timeless, ageless, and will always remain,
I have shed this earth bound life and I am a butterfly set free;
I drank from the deep blue cup of life.
So come, dear hearts and plant some pretty flowers in Spring,
I am at last united with all my beloved who have gone before;
Touch my name and remember me for my beauty,
And although my life was but a whisper, I loved every moment;
Now, I exist in another realm.
August 26, 2015
Submitted to the Premiere Contest Number Five
Sponsor, A Skat
Copyright © Dear Heart | Year Posted 2015
Spring awakens to remnant snow
As winter meets his quietus, he has to go
Soon daffodils will lithely sway
And spring's rhapsody will rule the day
Cherry blossoms put on a show
Telling their story in a beautiful way
Butterflies will come out to play
As spring offers her sweet bouquet
Under fathomless blue skies
Spring transforms the landscape
I see eternity in dawn's sunrise
As the season of blooms takes shape
Contest - Five Words Please
Sponsor- Broken Wings
Copyright © Joseph May | Year Posted 2018
It is the night, in deepest dark, that death foretells
the demon heart in which all lonely feeling dwells.
Yet, in plain sight, our eyes can’t see what life impels,
emotion’s plea, our deepest sorrow love dispels.
Blind are caustic ink filled visions, all light repels,
like charred decisions, ash from crematory tells
a tale where quietus intrepidity sells
the silent impetus toward a life of many hells.
Walled inside this ebon murk, my emotion wells;
beyond they lurk, those who are sane, their tale retells
how life is to live, and the end but brief farewells.
Though my will may bend, it is I that death compels.
Copyright © James Inman | Year Posted 2018
She couldn't contain her rhapsody demeanor much more
hugging her husband and gushing with excitement as he closed the door
the third class cabin was modest but she thought it would do
finally spending time together in this steerage cabin room
After dining together and playing cards with some other passengers
they retired to their cabin and did some reading till their eyes tired
then they spooned together in the darkness of the room
and made passionate love being they were on their honeymoon
Sound asleep till they we're abruptly awaken by a violent jarring
finding out from people running about it was from an icebergs scarring
throwing on their overcoats they we're thrown two lifejackets
and fought their way up to the top deck amidst all the panic
Their weary eyes saw the last lifeboat being lowered down to the ocean
many brave men staying behind waving trying not to show emotion
the newlyweds hugged each other while their faces wept
about to go down with the ship into the fathomless depths
They held hands while trying with all their might to hold on and grip
as the ship rose up perpendicular making them and others slip
the ship now offered nothing but quietus to the passengers on board
as they both plummeted in slow motion down to the ocean floor
Some survivors in the Titanic lifeboats watched with pitiful awe
while others who lost loved ones lost control and bawled
the ones who lost many possessions tried not to show too much enmity
while the newlyweds love story would last for all eternity.
Copyright © cheryl hoffman | Year Posted 2018
I know that I am dying, I am fading fast,
my life is almost over, by tomorrow I will be dead;
and I find myself on a grave stone draped in quietus,
come the next dawn- I will be withered gone.
A girl brought me to this vast place of deep tears,
her sad weeping wet my soft red velvet petals;
she had plucked me from my shade in her little garden,
oh, I was so happy there growing by the fence.
I heard her say the word baby in her sadness,
then she placed me gently on this cold tomb to die;
will I bring the baby peace- will the baby know me,
soon we are alone, baby and me- hello I whisper.
My name is Rose, soon I will join you in the other world,
that night I watched the moon and stars above;
for the last time I knew the dawn and then I gasped,
all was still - I was in the hand of a child.
The child pressed me to his lips and kissed me beautiful,
my petals were no longer brittle cold but lovely;
and here we lay under the blue azure sky and cool earth,
a rose and a baby boy, joined in death by eternal love.
For years we listen to birds singing and wind sighing,
the rain gently falling and snowflakes drifting in winter;
birds in circled flight above and distant whispers of love,
and the tears of an old woman falling on our tomb.
August 23, 2016
Copyright Protected, ID 16-822-769-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, And In The Words, She Blooms
sponsor, Casarah Nance
Copyright © Dear Heart | Year Posted 2016
This quietus death – sweet release-
a rhapsody enwrapping you.
Fathomless it is; pain will cease.
This quietus death – sweet release!
Your story does not end, for peace
lasts an eternity when life's through!
This quietus death – sweet release-
a rhapsody enwrapping you.
March 24, 2018 for Broken Wing's "5 Words Please" Contest
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2018
Voyage To Eternity
Such quietus when I walk in...
this place so calm and void of din.
But still, a rhapsody within
I hear...so beautiful...akin
to music from a violin
and angels singing hymns therein;
fathomless sounds that soon begin
to race my heart, goose-bump my skin.
Eternity unfolds herein...
I'll rest in peace with no chagrin.
The story of my life will spin
my deeds I hope, with grace, not sin.
And here I'll be, frame old and thin...
in mausoleum, with my kin.
But angels will my soul unpin...
as God awaits with welcomed grin.
Sandra M. Haight
Premiere Contest: Best Rhyming Poem in March
Sponsor: Laura Loo
Contest: Five Words Please
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Required words used in order of appearance:
quietus rhapsody fathomless eternity story
Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2018
My sad life story lacks glory.
Fathomless singed pain bears my name
as echoed in gray rhapsody.
My sad life story lacks glory
and will bruise thru eternity
for no quietus seeks its aim.
My sad life story lacks glory.
Fathomless singed pain bears my name.
... CayCay Jennings
March 27, 2018
Copyright © CayCay Jennings | Year Posted 2018
I wake up in this fine old house,
where the quietus is tangible
The silence, almost palatable,
that has a pulse I've felt before
I rise to watch the sun come up.
Another day to feel the gulf
that lies between two worlds.
I'm reaching for my coffee cup,
and hold the warmth against my breast
as if it were my friend
I'll step onto the old screen porch,
so grateful for the wind
The morning sun is still the same
as it filters through the lodge pole pines,
The breezes play a rhapsody, with melodies, resigned
The lyrics have been changed this time,
with words I cannot bear
The story seems too fathomless, to even shed a tear
I can see into eternity, across the western sky
as wind knocks down a lone pinecone, from branches swaying high
Pine cones give up everything, ….everything they have
Small miracles are seeds that grow, from trees that reach the sky
The questions they are asking, and the same ones that we'll cry
Dear God,... please tell us why....
There are reasons we aren't meant to know,...
yet will we ask until we die
For Contest: "5 Words Please"--- Sponsor: Broken Wings
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2018
You were there in the night
Sensual rhapsody evolved
With a safe place in sight
Our love mystery was solved
I can still feel your hair
A fathomless love union found
With invincible care
Synchronicity to be crowned
We discovered our bliss
Beyond quietus it would be
No longer would we miss
The truth in visions that we see
It was our love story
Silently falling into place
A familiar glory
For eternity we embrace
*Placed 2nd for the 5 word contest.
Words required: Rhapsody, Fathomless, Quietus, Eternity, Story
Copyright © Heidi Sands | Year Posted 2018
You suffered a fathomless and immeasurable death,
guess my womb is the o n l y home you’ll ever know-
You never got the chance to take your first breath,
and this story ends in a perpetual eternity of woe.
I remember trying to wake you by w i g g l i n g your toe.
In blissful rhapsody your tiny body now lives,
your final quietus grave is where I go to talk to you-
I know it’s my pitiful self I must learn to f o r g i v e,
see my world from a much different point of view.
To all this m i s e r y I must learn to say “adieu”.
So I return to my double life lived since you died,
one part of me h e a l e d, the other not the same-
When I tell others I am okay they know I lied,
because deep down it’s always been me I blame.
You're just an innocent boy without a s p o k e n name.
In the depths of the shadows I w e e p and I mourn,
for there is nothing else I’d rather be doing-
I try to let go yet it seems my heart is still torn,
now a wicked storm in my heart is brewing.
I n e v e r got to hear you laugh loudly while cooing.
Freedom from these s h a c k l e s shall never exist-
as I remember your cold forehead I gently k i s s e d.
1. rhapsody 2. fathomless 3. quietus 4. eternity 5. story
Five Words, Please - Poetry Contest
Sponsor, Broken Wings
March 12, 2018
Copyright © Lu Loo | Year Posted 2018
the claret red horizon
from a Sickroom -
a death ward
where cracked knuckles
spatter the fjords
moistening the planks;
bathing the laths of anxiety
marquis de sade stumps
Norwegian expressions of death -
the Dance of Life
as a funeral pyre of Ashes are
your tribe’s headstone
the stench of brother’s legacy
a protected breath
and a Dead Mother can
the Clock and the Bed
the two guardians of quietus
this clotted bridge
in soured and
Copyright © John Heck | Year Posted 2009
I’m happiest when the weather
is gloomy and threatening rain.
Its tendency, this low pressure,
forces most people to remain
inside comfortable houses.
Outside becomes much quieter
assuming a shushed quietus
that wouldn’t normally occur
if the day were a sunny one;
so I pray that this low holds fast
concealing the intrusive sun
behind the looming overcast
while I revel in its stillness
and its lugubrious bleakness.
Copyright © Albert Ahearn | Year Posted 2012
They must have thought that I was brought here to do the numbers....
Ninty-nine's einsteinium square dance razzle dazzle then you shuffle a masque ?
Halloween arrived although ushering in an unknown, mutation towards
These centripetal forces ? Ancient's prophecy to bring into fold of trembling
Foretold standing at their threshold love's thresher; combatant the messenger
If all else shall fail ? Indubitable, unto His heavens as her Angels whom know..
Quietus with hands full of good tidings this heart and a golden marionette ?
Crossing inevitables Mason-Dixon line; cyber space Spirits humanity; poetics Waterloo.
Copyright © Johnny Rhinem | Year Posted 2013
IS DEATH AN IGBO MAN?
Quietus: ‘Nna Grave, this is Quietus
from Vaults and Sons International.
My containers don arrive?’
Grave: ‘Yes Oga Quietus. From:
but some of the goods (carrion)
and left for Vultures.’
Quietus: ‘Ok. I get business for Kangan(1960).
Oga at the top
has finally heard
His people’s cry
by reason of their taskmasters.’
Grave: ‘Goodluck Sah!’
©Angel Simon 2013
Amidst global political upheaval and terrorist pandemonium
which has increased mortality rate incessantly, this poem
(written in a dialogic format) is a conversation between two
business partners- Oga Quietus(Death) and Grave who both
trade in Carrion (dead bodies). The ethnical and symbolic
relevance of the Igbo Man for Death is because Death shares
some of the typical Igbo Man's commercial doggedness. Some
of which are industry, enterprise and adventure. Death is
really industrious in his Carrion business as we see his
branches in the above mentioned nations topping its supply
list from Grave. Enjoy!
Copyright © Ajayi Angel-Simon | Year Posted 2013
A REQUIEM TO MY PRECIOUS LEGS: ELEGY TO MY PARENTS
FREE VERSE FOR MUM
My birth remark reads:
You tramped for a season
With a puffy trunk
Along dangerous paths—
Waded on puddles and quagmire,
Scuffed your flat feet and
Trampled it on serpents and scorpions
To bid my glorious existence…
I lost my balance
When I felt your expiration from my pubis.
I staggered in pain
Like a fowl stripped off by fierce breeze.
Which a thousand-and-one-princesses adore—
The trunk you both carry—
Through rocky hills and sloppy mountains—
Is now an elephantine for the other leg.
Oh! Your cessation is at break of dawn
You danced to the tune that glooms souls
You are bereft of ambling
On such and such burg…
You hurried for the Golden City.
The scorch sun and mild moon cloy
You take pleasure in the one-off of quietus…
With streams of briny water
Rolling down my cheek,
I watched you wriggling helplessly to and fro—
After being ricocheted on Death's spindly pole:
Death clasped your brawny brittle bones.
You swell, swelter, near bursting,
Impatient for suppuration in your crimson attire.
You scoot the living abode
On mutilated soles and toes;
My precious leg!
In your gracefulness,
I created beautiful traits.
I'm left limping as you're supplanted
By quasi-legs and crutches.
Will you ever return?
Even in posterity…
HAIKU FOR DAD
Dad! Why? Another crutch?
Both legs amputated
You couldn't stay; you loved mum.
Your Love, Angel Simon.
On Christ The Solid Rock I Stand...*tears*
Copyright © Ajayi Angel-Simon | Year Posted 2012
Underwater where sound
carries much farther
the bustling of fish feeding
awakens the whales
tis morning above
frigates are moving
their noise like fright rising
all the sea's creatures
suffer it's passage
from shore into deep water
filling the oceans and seas
noise pollution is deafening
the whales by nature
swim towards the quietus
mass strandings before them
dolphins lead the way
facing an unheard of escape
frigates grow larger
and the new are born to it
that ear splitting deprivation
our cloud of disquiet
at sea level up on it
above the drone of ships
onboard under Cetus
no hue or cry is made of it
the devastating consequences
of 1087 feet per second
beating soundly to extinction
all that lives bellow
while humans draw power from it.
Copyright © Thresha Reese | Year Posted 2018
Grimoire gondolas steal unbound human yawns,
Each Charon poised with sallow spear along the River:
Austere laughter of headless boughs
sipping grave-scented spiritual kisses.
Gruel to Drinking Fear you do coerce,
Till evil flees the dawn within its hearse.
I shall not warn my successors, no—instead
I shall laugh
A Godless laugh
From this unlit, inward tower
At the Thoms ever drawn to a fog-rent
Harbor of Lights,
Forever in flight
t’wards a searing promise:
“The shadow of your smile when you are gone.”
The Months; cadence down
The end of Years,
All Great Whites closely duty-bound
Gleaned russet stress and tears.
All I do
As gardens do
As zephyr hewn
Is wash my hands
I watch my hands
Just watch them grow—
Closing impossible crimes
By the cold March of Time.
Shall I catastrophe? I shall wasp anew
Geronimo! hellbent swoons: withered Eye see U:
A veldt vision on this peace of death
That singes arrows unto my breast,
Non-quietus—not of suede nor hawthorn
That singing! Unveiled Vistas Reborn.
The summer breeze made chill wastrel flames,
E'en herrings dappled across minstrel viridian
All bearing my name.
Is your root, surely as I inhale the palpitations
Of this noxious City so small
Yet so grand in its delusion.
Rachel or Leah? Suffice it (and damn it, too), at least Jacob’s subtle darkness
Invited crystal warmth to dine on elegant raindrops. At Life I laugh,
And Life laughs long, dreamy along kestrel seams. I dine
On sweet air.
Despised dream origin.
Quickly, quickly, awaken me—unwrap
Your blessed hearths, creature,
And begone—I despise
Your balance of whimsy; I despise
All of your beauty.
Copyright © Richard H. Dunsany | Year Posted 2016
After fourteen years, I have learned
This love tells a different story
The rhapsody of wrinkled sheets
I share with you
The eternity of your snoring
I can no longer sleep without
Your fathomless reservoir
Of lame jokes I still laugh at
I would even miss the annoyance
Of your declarations on how other people should drive
I'm sure this love
Looks quietus, looks dull
Unworthy of song or scribe
But this unremarkable, everyday,
bill-paying, grocery-shopping, house-cleaning,
alarm-clock morning, lawn-mowing, dog-washing,
dinner-making, car-maintaining, laundry-folding love
Is what fills my heart, and makes me whole.
Copyright © Michelle Faulkner | Year Posted 2018
Copyright © Nigel Fox | Year Posted 2010
Zapping your xylophone
While viewing unhappiness
The still reverberating quietus
Pounds on my limbo.
Kings jump in high garters
Feathered elands dive
Catching beautiful aardvarks.
Copyright © Jo Saunders | Year Posted 2015
The death of a bird is the death of a song
Like the melody of its lasting breath
Sliced down from an invisible blade of the wind
The quietus of a bird defeats the entity of nature itself
The bereavement of this serenoa
Would bring dissolution upon the serenity
Of this calmness of peace
Even a soul-less renegade or heartless machine
Could enjoy this peace, list it a virtue
The cessation of the entity that was this
Winged small angel of animal
Not the end, but a new beginning
In its nest, its offspring has spread their wings
To continue the siren song of its nature
The sky is the limit, is the sweat visible on its face
Only the beating wings claim its words
Confidence, majestic, determined
But its ruination, the quietus, the bereavement
Which make the ponderer, wanderer wonder
Wonder what's the true meaning of the circle
Does it start with something living, end with an idea
Does the death of a bird equal the cessation of a melody
Copyright © Crow thepoet | Year Posted 2016
Beneath the River Somnium,
Abandoned Wishes hymn: quiet in the viaduct:
Reverse the Lodestone;
Reverse the First Sin;
Reverse the Autumn Hearse;
Reverse the Universe.
We are the murk men, intangible ends—inebriated together
With Beelzebub our friend. Absolvent now in burning skin, the Piper plays our rudder;
Garudas’ quietus ballroom-mance veils lioness earthbound shudders
Come speak as One or risk the Sun
Melting e’en your physical fixture.
Rainforests, peripheral phantoms
Meshing lanterns; coalescing unwound mummy-cloth sanctums.
Drear-dreaming desolates—we inhale brimstone, we imprison Nymph oxygen
Delirium waterfalls brew spirits despite ballets
Heating gloam flintlock
In Nem-kissed cabernets
Cascading pyre dunes endlessly:
Nine inward tales lost in Ambrosia unbelonging,
Scorching any falsely fairer,
Side-thrusting ineffective suffocation
With undead rapiers. Who dares desire to replace You
Shall receive Bubonic nebulas, past arbalest
Exhibiting thrones’ cobalt fire under Babylon’s command,
silent yet laughing always waiting for zero
hands cannot wait they tremble
we dissemble they commend grown avatars
youthful Avatars: hawks circling together,
Smiling, sardonically tired of this world
Trapped within thunder,
As gorgeous black does spool this secret:
Those of us who have strayed from The Path
Disintegrate into cinnamon
For common use. Therein, use the fallen well,
Persephone's stair of the past—
only in dreams Hades’ Wint has passed
hinterland skies embracing crescents’ fast
below our lone, draped behemoth ‘cross cities’ paradox
in the midst of a nightly, playful wink.
We daemons tacit vacant love insane.
Alucard, Alistaire, Allwein: Remove your Glove—dispatch that Vein.
Your pact with us has just begun,
Though fear us not, O Clem, who’s won?:
Escape's been reared by us—reality fears Your perennial face;
Your marrow trills—now Murkland strafes:
Quem di diligunt, adolescens moritur;
To siphon Your Color——A New Corridor.
Copyright © Richard H. Dunsany | Year Posted 2017
(The final part of my serial "Do Not Listen" poem. I had written this months ago, but hadn't felt confident about posting it--until now and with a few edits.)
Do Not Glisten, Child! of my early past.
Do you still desire to shake this Hand of the Age
so black in depth and red from nightshade?
Rather I would buy you a milkshake from a Rocket's,
and dip for but a short time in our unified happiness. To face or not to face
the sun indifferent as the Boatman?
When she's isles,
the secret plane of reality is that negative abyss, et al..
Destroy all the clocks and time does not fall,
Saturn's mind is a wherewithal,
the seductive lilting Southern drawl
loots itself a mighty hall…and they act surprised. So very surprised
to see their blue as red on the linoleum floor.
Oh? Had you not predicted thusly,
when you two strode arm-in-arm along the thoroughfare,
with that stupid smile embracing the air?
And what hear you there? Indeed.
The mermaid's melody, the siren's sonata
all starving for accompaniment: the percussive heartbeat of hope:
and a last fraying rope. A last
Ha ha ha! Why do I laugh? You know full well, but since you've asked!
Black Stereo, black clothes--black month of June! Black Yin
Rain thine essences down upon this lowly serf,
show me the footage of a black cat
with a caramel nose, soul of heaven,
pressing lovingly into my chest, kneading,
purring and licking my rose
cheeks blooming above dead Western Gilgamesh,
then Garuda me as you open your mouth to dream
'n' out ‘n’ out ‘n’ out dives soundlessly...
I cannot wait for quietus debate, barreling down like
Do Not Listen. Clog
goes the weasel,
clogging the years, so silence the seas
and clog your arteries
with this sweetest dessert: iced love drizzled with liquor, sprinkled
with broken vein glass:
A Nobody’s Wish to Eat.
Copyright © Richard H. Dunsany | Year Posted 2017
We taunted by those we love,
Fastened by those we meet.
We are endangered by the future,
Rescued by fate.
We are wearied by stage,
Refreshed by ending.
We are put into strife by ambition,
And receded by triumph.
We are afflicated by passion,
Wounded by persuasion.
We are failed by our efforts,
Consoled by our past.
We are shattered by experience,
Reconditioned by consequence.
We are held by false,
And evicted by truth.
We are pursued by gloom,
Eluded by fire.
We are bothered by reality,
Delighted by fantacy.
We are incarcerated by existance,
Set fee by quietus.
Copyright © Nontando Sibanda | Year Posted 2013